Moths Don't Like Being Butterflies
by Cocheta
Summary: Forced to follow fate's ever changing destinies, Hotaru finds herself left to battle her emotions, along with the rest of humanity. Comparing all other’s as butterflies, and herself a moth she searches her world, searching for a plea of understanding. H
1. .:Prologue ~ Strings of Destiny `upon a ...

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~Moths Don't Like Being Butterflies**~**

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and Gundam Wing are copyrighted by a whole heck of a lot of people... just not me.

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Summary: Forced to follow fate's ever changing destinies, Hotaru finds herself left to battle her emotions, along with the rest of humanity. Comparing all other's as butterflies, and herself a moth she searches her world, searching for a plea of understanding. What she finds is yet another 'moth'. Heero Yuy.

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Genre: General/Romance

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Rating: PG-13 for minor language, some violence at times, and perhaps themes of twisted souls.

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Approximate Chapters: 20

**Author's Note:** Alright, this WILL be Heero/Hotaru... but be fore-warned, it may take a few chapters before they start to fall for each other... or let alone meet...

.:Prologue ~ Strings of Destiny `upon a Loom...:.

"Damn. It. All." Clenched teeth promising pain, wild eyes of vengeance, and the will to rip apart all those standing upright adorned the otherwise calm, serene face of Saturn's messenger. In a quick burst of speed resonating with pure defiance, and the luminance of a true warrior, the senshi of Saturn, Hotaru Tomoe, drew up her glaive only to thrust it into yet another rampant youma.

Normally, such a fate's turn would have been handled in a collected manner. Today's incidents had been no exception for the melancholic soul, and thus, intolerant rage had boiled out, spewing the bottled-up emotions usually left alone to rot in the heart's prisonal depths.

The other present senshi looked on in gasps of surprise and raised eyebrows, never quite knowing Hotaru's mood swings of the darker side. Uranus, with the alias of Haruka Tenoe, watched as her lover rolled her eyes at her very own behavior. In one last attempt to make sure it truly wasn't a dream, she turned to the nearest wall, and in one fluid movement, hit her cranium against the eroding bricks of the nearby warehouse once again. True to reality's promise, it wasn't a dream. It was only a headache of the mind's proportions.

Turning back to watch the end of the youma's ever-current lightshow, the senshi of wind sighed. She was fully aware it was the Outers fault for the incomprehensible behavior of their youngest. Ever since the guardian of time, Senshi Pluto, Setsuna Meio, had shown up with her damned sad smile, they were off once again to move. She had to admit, even herself wasn't acting quite right, but full-well knowing it would pass, her thoughts once again drifted to Hotaru. Smirking, she only proved herself right, today was definitely not the day to tell Saturn of Pluto's plans.

Oh sure, moving wouldn't be quite enough for that outburst, but, considering she finally had _friends_, true friends... the consequences were not desirable. Hotaru knew her disposition as a freak to the eyes of her peers would never truly pass, and that more importantly, it would never come to end. Moving from Chibi-Usa, Ami, Usagi, Rei, Makoto, Minako, Mamoru, and the cats would mean leaving behind the joy to life. Sworn into secrecy, Hotaru considered herself a goth. She could truly see the beauty in the forbidden, the hated, and that left to rot, but never truly being seen by the rest of society. A true freak she often mused, trying to muster a laugh, but only finding tears.

Standing up straight, she turned around to face the sweat-drops of the only ones who could honestly call her name with dignity and pure respect. Bowing in sorrow and apologies, she rotated around to walk off, her transformation wearing off, her regular dark violets and black clothing shimmering about her. Tears creeping into her eyes, knowing at the depth of her own soiled soul, it was the last time she would see them.


	2. .:Chapter 1 ~ ...Threadings of Fate Entw...

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~Moths Don't Like Being Butterflies**~**

Approximate Chapters Left: 16

.:Chapter 1 ~ ...Threadings of Fate Entwined...:.

"Excuse me miss... I'm sorry I'm a tad late, but... uh, I'd like to fill out a form to enroll in your... lovely... school." Silent eyes without traces of happiness befell upon the primed secretary as she scurried into the next room in search of the enrollment papers. Hotaru, in simplistic Amish style clothing endowed with black shadows, mystique, and the grace of delicate, wispy spider webs, sought out a leather armchair to await her destiny. Cringing at the fact she was sitting on the death of yet another innocent soul taken without thought or heed to life's own blessings, she reached over to the nearby table to accomplish the task of finding an entertaining magazine. Randomly clutching any of the scattered array of catalogs and magazines, she closed her eyes, afraid to look upon another educational brainwashing fact spreadsheet. Upon closer examination after opening her morose eyes of dull violet to the artificial lighting, she found it wasn't, but instead a thick tome of the world's history.

"At least my luck hasn't completely withered away." The now sixteen years aged child of death and yet - strangely enough - rebirth, Hotaru had the notion to roll her eyes and curse her sorrowful fate half-heartedly. Cracking open the dusty book, she began to skim through the many chapters. Sure, world history wasn't a favorite study of many, but she found the knowledge here-in continued beyond value. For what better way to avoid the misunderstandings the world's future has in store, than to know the human emotions and reactions of the past. Hotaru also found the width and height of the moth-eaten sheets bound by quality covering to completely hide her face, another plus and semi-cheer to unfathomable luck.

When lost in the depths of chapter fifty-three, the double oak doors shielding the inside interior from the more outcasted exterior were burst open, the chilly north wind came in with passion, whilst the more solid forms dredged along, almost near-limping with fake illnesses. Hotaru drew her book closer to her nose, finding the less her alabaster skin shone, the more confidence she had. For it was white that never became absorbed by black, and in return, radiated in false splendor. As having always known the life of night and dark, her skin just gave her positioning away.

"Ah man! Relena-baka's mothership?! Why do we _have_ to attend _here_?!! OF ALL PLACES!?" At the outburst, Hotaru slightly tipped her tome downward to envision the face of the loudest teen she had ever heard. She took note that the braided male's shattering of sweet silence was ignored by his comrades, further proving her point that he truly was loud and gregarious.

"Miss, your enrollment papers are ready to be filled out." The strict voice of the bun toting, grey-plaid secretary announced, only then finding the horribly acrid air of the beige and pink combo wallowing in paint globs on the once-proud walls that adorned the Gabrial school's lobby inhibited by more than just one scholar. Of course, only three or four out of the six enticing faces actually _looked_ like they gave a damn about education.

Trying to muster as much grace as she could in the presence of the five strangers, Hotaru carefully placed her book of wisdom down onto the coffee stained woodwork accomplishing a fine table. As she stood up, she felt the eyes of the haunting strangers weigh her down as she calmly walked over to the reception's desk to not only retrieve the papers, but a suitable pen as well. Turning around, she found them asking for the papers of enrollment as well.

Seeing as how there was only four chairs in the miniscule lobby, Hotaru sought out the darkest corner, allowing the unfortunate souls whom also had been taken in to attend the blasted _Peacecraft_ academy, to at least make use of the furniture. It wasn't that she despised the school and what it stood for, it was those who ran and attended the cursed building. Every one of them dreamers... with a loving family, a table full of food, a roof over there heads... they never truly understood the _outside_ world. Idealism? She was once a teary-eyed peacemaker, hell, she still was, but the weight of wrongs crushed the deeds of those whom still had some scrap of holiness left. Hotaru had just simply grown up alone in this new world, her 'parents' and 'guardians' leaving her to learn the lessons once again. At times of disappointment, she became a 'bitter hermit', living true to the role of Saturn's possession. 

And it was this side of her that many other 'citizens' saw. Few even dared to look past the cold facade. And those that did... she had to pity them. Honestly though, she was a good person in her mind and soul, her heart was pure, her innocence untouched... except by Saturn's misfortune to rob her of even that at times. Hotaru stared long and hard at her hands, half expecting them to be red with rich blood from her _other _side... her senshi being... whom had so ruthlessly took.

And that was the problem here. On this Earth. In this time-frame. The damned enemy wasn't even black nor white! They were grey... they were human. Not youma. It wasn't a fairy-tale with definite 'good' guys and 'bad' guys. They were people doing this for a better way of life. For their _families_.

She looked up with a sad tear forming in her eyes at the arrangement the now-quieted group of boys had formed. The unusually loud and obsessively hyper one had draped himself across the leather armchair, feet dangling off one side, while being watched with a wholesome glare by another ponytail wearer. She sighed, knowing that in another few minutes _something_ would unfold around the two. What, she couldn't say. The other two armchairs were being used by the seemingly peaceful blonde whom radiated pure honesty and the one with an air of stoic silence about him. Both taking into account the questions asked in quiet detail.

The last figure, she had almost missed. She could almost swear he was part chameleon, literally blending his aura into the wall masked with shadows. He seemed distant, untouchable. _He_ scared her. For once in her life, she saw the facades she played out displayed in full plumage by another. Even his aura - an ability she had recently discovered while trying to see another without masks nor lies - had that same air of prickling cold. Was he as involved with death as she?

Not wishing to be caught staring, she turned back to her own forms, thanking Setsuna and Michiru for more proper, creative writing lessons. Now if only she could remembered what she wrote... Almost all of the packet had been in complete bullshit. Almost nothing was true - but then again - was this all a dream? Some horrible nightmare? Her mind drifted to logic, if it truly was her mind, the walls would _not_ be beige and pink, in _any_ combination. So that left her with choice number two, reality.


	3. .:Chapter 2 ~ ...Plucked and Chosen, One...

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~Moths Don't Like Being Butterflies**~**

Approximate Chapters Left: 30

.:Chapter 2 ~ ...Plucked and Chosen, One String from Many...:.

Sighing pure agony, Hotaru gently picked herself up off the somewhat dusty floor. Taking the forms, she quickly scanned them in memorization, laughing at times within her mind's depths, for who could believe the story she wove around her own mysteries? But then again, it certainly was a_ lot_ more believable than if she had simply started off with her _true_ heritage and home memories. And with history? Even if she _did_ brave the silent unspoken dare, the blasted section was by _far_ to short.

As she passed the papers to the outstretched hand of the secretary, another of the room's occupants handed in their forms also. It was her clone. At least... in terms of soul... and eyes also now that she thought about it. The haunting , lifeless forms shaped into orbs could surely be seen as a joke by those skilled enough. But... pain, misery, _agony_... it was there, kept only in check by amazing self-discipline. Those eyes proved the cliche` _'...not meant for mortal eyes to see.'_ true. But what could he have possibly been witness to? Remembering manners, she quickly looked away, fearing he had seen her gaze of contemplation. She hurried her step to the retreat of nature - outside. She greeted the wind in an embrace of understanding, before her eyes became occupied on the flight of a single, struggling moth. It seemed to not be able to take flight at all, as if gravity and sunlight had all but destroyed the poor creature's dignity for braving the new. Hotaru had always compared herself to moths, as she found them so much... more compelling, if even that word would suit the feeling.

She bent down to one knee, not caring for the inevitable dirt that would soon come to make-due on her clothing. Not that she cared anyway. As far as she knew, the world's downfall was due to propaganda - and with it all things selfish and superficial. It truly disgusted her - how one could so easily throw away another's very life or ruin a perfectly humble emotion of happiness, but yet they pampered themselves with pride, foolish hatred and misgivings. And to make matters worse, these people could never endure even the slightest smudge on a well-made shoe or a decent pair of slacks. Wasteful. Pitiful. At times, Hotaru wished to end the world's foolishness, to summon the apocalypse - and all just to prove a point.

Delicately, with more finesse than she thought she had possible, Hotaru picked up the melancholic moth, silently envying it's freedom. As she steadied the inner elegance that the moth portrayed on one hand, she readied her other hand to heal it's crumpled wing. In a burst of comforting lilac light, the healer concentrated on the small capillaries and tissues of the seemingly bland wing. When she opened her more joyful eyes, Hotaru had found that she had, in fact, done a seamless job. Silently praying for the moth's health in future days, and for no encounters with the horribly black-hearted race of 'humanity', she walked over to yet another rampant rose bush, all in bloom and intoxicating passer-by with an otherworldly fragrance.

"Their you are... please... stay safe... little moth... your the closest thing I have to a friend here... on this industry-strewn world... At least... it's amazing Mother Nature hasn't completely took her last breath..." She slightly laughed, wondering if the moth even understood her odd 'speech'. But wasn't the love of the heart and soul enough to transcend any barrier?

Feeling eyes once again watching her subtle movements, she wished to curse. Straightening herself upright and paying no attention to dusting her long skirt off, she slowly turned her body around, her eyes immune to emotion, her face relaxed into a Buddha's expression. She desperately wished she knew how long the short blonde boy had been watching her fret over a tiny moth. She could feel a blush work it's way up from her soul, but Hotaru kept her impassive face portrayed, knowing it would never appear. She was simply immune to showing any stain of red against her skin. At times she thought she had the rare skin condition of virilgo.

"I'm sorry for bothering you miss, but the secretary has already sorted out the paperwork... you are now registered to attend Gabrial High-School. She requested one of us retrieve you so that you may obtain your schedule and dome key. Oh... forgive my rudeness! I am Quatre Winner. It is most certainably a pleasure to meet you." The golden haired 'angel' bowed in deep respect as Hotaru introduced herself.

"Oh no, please forgive _my_ rudeness, you would not of had to wait so long if I'd been paying attention. I'm Tomoe Hotaru. It's an honor to meet you." She allowed herself to strip a part of her usual facade down, to allow true emotions of content to enter her eyes. Quatre obviously had the aura of a modern paladin, and the heart's quixotic moral shown bright and true in his kind eyes. It left her heart skipping a bit, wondering if the Earth truly wasn't on a path to self-destruction.

"`Tis fine miss Hotaru! It truly isn't everyday that someone helps another less fortunate soul. You really shouldn't be quite so embarrassed about it!" His eyes twinkled in amused laughter. Hotaru quirked an eyebrow at the startlingly true prediction. Sensing Hotaru's slight discomfort, Quatre rushed to add, " I apologize if I've said anything of discomfort to you in any way. Uh, I have a knack for guessing an individuals' emotion..."

Watching Quatre slowly side over to guilt and uncertainity, Hotaru tried to comfort him with words, "Hey! Don't worry about it! It's fine... it's just... you remind me of one of my friends back... _home_..." The word seemed foreign in her mouth, and the only thing it accomplished was a dose of homesickness. Trying to keep her thoughts away from such displeasing memories, she continued speaking after a few seconds lapse. "You said the secretary was finished? Thank you so much for telling me!" She could feel herself genuinely smiling. Her soul sighed with pleasure, having only tasted tears for weeks on end.


	4. .:Chapter 3 ~ ...Added and Woven Into th...

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~Moths Don't Like Being Butterflies**~**

Approximate Chapters Left: 45 (Lemme` explain this, before I start to write the chapter, I give an estimate of what it _feels_ in a semi-reliable time-frame.)

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Author Notes: I'm getting this feeling as though these characters may be to OOC..._ please _let me know if you feel as though I'm contorting them to much...

.:Chapter 3 ~ ...Added and Woven Into the Grand Tapestry...:.

"Must _everything_ here be _pink_?! OF ALL _COLOURS_?!" A resounding voice echoed around the dome's small enclosure only to draw the attention of Hotaru. Her deep black hair highlighted by the tingle of death's very own violet was somewhat disheveled due to the insistent North wind billowing through the open windows of the dome. As she rounded the corner, she feared it would be the loud, obnoxious one whom she had seen in the lobby earlier. As her eyes fell onto the braided one's aura, she shivered. _So cold._ His aura had the halo of death strung about it, but his own soul kept it at bay by just being it's regular, crazy self.

But yet, it was him. Shatterer of Silence. He-Who-Aggravates-Others. In a divine inspiration beset by muses, she tried to find the right word in her true native tongue. Not the flowing Japanese she had employed in her last 'home' but the ancient syllables of Saturn's most accursed language - Destruction. Giving up, she decided to just get the introduction over with, then go back to re-arranging her room's furniture to more suit her melodramatic undertones.

"I suppose I'm your roommate..." Hotaru replied to the outburst with nothing more than a sigh. "...I'm Tomoe Hotaru..." 

Hotaru's roommate stood frozen in his tracks, taken in Hotaru's appearance of blacks and deep violets illuminated by her own pale white skin and intriguing eyes of _violet_. "YES!! FINALLY! Another wearer of death's cloak!!! Wait a sec... you _do_ always were black... ne?"

Hotaru restrained herself from rolling her eyes at the strange question. "Hai. And your name please?"

"Duo Maxwell! Shinigami! I may run and hide, but I never tell a lie! I'm also a fellow goth!" He winked at Hotaru still with the grin plastered over his face. The only response he acquired was a blank stare.

Finally, breaking the odd lapse of silence, Hotaru collapsed to the floor on her knees. It is was to rich... his assertion of stereotypes... and the scarier part of it - Hotaru detected - was that he _believed _his own self-created lies. Confused as ever, Duo tried to ask what happened to her, but the only response he was given was a cough. Helping Hotaru to her feet, Duo kept begging to know what he said that caused her to go limp.

"Duo... how large is your ego? Or... better yet, how much pride to you give yourself?" Hotaru kept an implacid face as she eyed Duo with all the seriousness he found in Heero. Duo, not quite sure what to make of it, stayed silent. He didn't even notice when Hotaru went back to her room.

"Well... at least he's _quiet_ now." Hotaru mused. She felt guilt run into her blood as she remembered his face of confusion and slight hurt over her initial reaction. Feeling pity for him, she opened her door to still find him sitting on the beige carpet of the living room. Clearing her throat to gain his attention, she spoke with the voice of a true healer, and yet that of an experienced warrior. "Duo... it's not so much what you said... it's what you defined. A goth is not someone who wears just black. As you very well know, black is the colour of mourning. It is worn by goths as a symbol of the wisdom they know of the human race's self-destruction. They mourn the innocents that die each day by the struggles of foolish wars. But a goth's true heart and mind lie in their ability to see the good in everything. Especially the outcasted. To call oneself a goth, one must know that death is not the end... and that rebirth always follows."

"As for the whole 'Shinigami' title... it truly does not fit you. The last time I heard, the service of death was held in check by a woman. And she alone was to balance both life's forthcomings, and the searing pain left to warn the races of what sin could do to the soul's future and well-being..." Hotaru finished with tears trimming her eyes, but never escaping into her voice. She turned back to her room to finish her little 'project' with the furniture before closing her eyes to fall victim to sleep's sweet serenade.


End file.
